Sorry is Never Enough
by TooEarlytoCare
Summary: Bellamy wanted someone to blame after Charlotte's death and Clarke was the most obvious choice.
1. Chapter 1

Sorry is Never Enough

Disclaimer: I don't own the 100 or its characters.

Author's Note: This is a bit darker than my previous Bellarke story and involves a much angrier Bellamy after Charlotte's death. The M rating is for potentially more mature chapters later on. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 1

Bellamy watched as Clarke explained Murphy's exile to the rest of the camp. He respected the calm she seemed to carry with her like armor everywhere she went. But that was the only positive thing he could bring himself to think about her as he replayed Charlotte plummeting to her death over and over. Things had been going well. Progress was being made. And Clarke had ruined all that. He had warned her and she hadn't listened. She never listened.

Clarke's speech was winding down and he had barely said anything, just nodded at random intervals. The crowd had dispersed, but everyone lingered, gathering to discuss what had happened in small groups. Clarke wasn't sure how to take Bellamy's continued silence but the look on his face put her on edge. She looked up at the night sky and saw the clouds gathering there. There was a storm coming and she could see it reflected in Bellamy's face as well.

His voice was a low growl when he finally spoke, shocking her with the venom in his words and tone. "You just couldn't take my word for it, could you? You just had to be right, didn't you?"

She was uncertain how to react to his sudden volatility. "This-this was never what I intended, Bellamy."

His smirk was a grimace. "Your kind never _intends_ anything, do you? You follow the rules because you make the rules. You don't intend for anyone to get hurt but you're always the ones doing the hurting."

Clarke could tell he was hurting, grieving for Charlotte and what had happened to her. He didn't realize Clarke hurt for Charlotte, too. Or he didn't want to realize that she hurt for all of them. Every single one of the 100 had probably had and/or watched a parent, relative, or friend be floated at some point. They were all victims of a failed society and none of them were to blame. But Bellamy wanted someone to blame and he had obviously chosen her.

She tried to remain calm and unaffected by his verbal attack, but she couldn't help the indignation that strained through when she spoke. "I'm not the Council. I'm not the Chancellor. I did as much choosing as you did. I don't know what else you want me to say."

He looked down at her, the righteous blue eyes, open face, and glowing hair. "You don't know? But you just _knew_ Murphy killed Wells. I told you to wait. I saw how you handled what happened to Atom. _I_, for once, was going to stay calm. You expect that from me. But you flew off the handle because it was _your_ friend who died. Apparently, you have very different expectations for yourself, Little Miss Perfect."

Clarke's own pain and anger boiled over and she couldn't hold back anymore as a light wind picked up, blowing leaves and swaying the smaller tree branches. "I'm not perfect! I never pretended to be anything I wasn't. I only expect honesty and hard work. From myself and from others. There's nothing wrong with that."

A growing crowd gathered even as rain started falling with stronger and stronger gusts of wind. Bellamy half expected Clarke to stomp her foot as she defended herself. She was such a brat. A spoiled, privileged brat. Lucky for her, she had him to put her in place, once and for all.

"You want honesty, princess? You want the truth?"

Clarke felt uneasy as he sneered down at her, a completely different person than the normally smooth charmer. But she wasn't going to let him see her break. She wouldn't let any of them see her break.

Octavia rushed forward trying to keep him from saying something she knew he would regret. The rain began falling harder and harder. "Bellamy, stop this! Not like this, not here, please!"

He looked down at his sister then around at the people gathered as the pouring rain soaked everyone's hair and clothes. He shook her hands off his arm. "No, Octavia! This needs to be said." He swung to face Clarke, the anger in his gaze hitting her like a flame. "Don't you get it, princess? The truth is I hate everything about you. Everything you stand for." He gestured to the people gathered around them. "We all do." Clarke gasped as each of his words hit her like a physical blow. He was in for blood tonight and nothing she said was going to take away the vicious glint in his dark eyes. She glanced at the faces around her and saw a few friendly faces among the resolutely angry ones. So very few.

She stammered as she tried to stay composed and answer him in front of the others. "I-I…okay."

Bellamy laughed bitterly and rolled his eyes. "Okay? Is that all you have to say? You always have so much to say any other time."

She looked at him, searching for something, anything that would make her believe he was the man she had once trusted, the man who had been so kind to Charlotte. Was she really so abhorrent that he would unleash this storm on her in front of the entire camp?

"I-I'm not sure what it is you want me to say. I am who I am. I can't change what happened to your mother. Or my father. I can't change what happened to all of us. I was wrong about Murphy. And Charlotte. And…I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry."

For the briefest of moments she thought something she said had broken through the hardness surrounding him, but as quickly as she saw it, it was gone. He really and truly hated her, she could see it in his face, feel it crackling in the air between them.

The water pouring down from the night sky stung as it hit the skin and Bellamy shook his head as his dry laugh echoed through the camp. "You know as well as the rest of us, Princess. Sorry is never good enough. Sorry doesn't change it." He turned and walked quickly away leaving Clarke to watch as the surviving members of the 100 slowly drifted back to their own tents and shelters. She was left alone in the clearing as the storm raged on around her.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry is Never Enough

Disclaimer: I don't own the 100 or its characters.

Author's Note: This is a few weeks later, after Clarke and Finn have been together and Raven has crash-landed. Again, this is much darker and Clarke/Bellamy are probably somewhat OOC for some readers' tastes. For example, Clarke may seem selfish or spoiled, but she's just very tired and overwhelmed. Bellamy is downright hateful, but he's also overwhelmed. Bear with them and with me. M rating is for language and possible future situations. Thank you for reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting! Let me know what you think!

Chapter 2

Two weeks later, Clarke woke in the early morning to the usual sounds of the camp, people milling about talking as they worked. They were recovering slowly from the storm. Rather, the others were recovering from the storm and building a life together on Earth, Clarke was merely existing. She lay on her pallet in the bottom of the drop ship and thought about the past few weeks. Wells was gone. Charlotte was gone. Finn may as well have been, though she really didn't have any ill will toward Raven for reclaiming him. Finn had disrespected them both with his actions. Clarke resisted smacking herself in the forehead every time she thought about how she had let herself trust and be distracted by the Spacewalker. She felt incredibly stupid. _But not for long_, she told herself.

Bellamy Blake may have hated her and he may have induced the rest of the camp to be leery of her after the situation with Charlotte, but she was done being a sitting duck for grounders and Bellamy's verbal punching bag. Though he had hardly spoken to her in recent days, when he had, it was with disdain and to mock her every suggestion. She was finished trying to help him or reason with him. Octavia had said to give her brother time, that he didn't handle grief or sadness well and it was just his way to lash out when he was upset. Clarke had bit her tongue to keep from telling Octavia to shove the psycho-babble where the sun didn't shine. She was tired of excuses, when it came to Bellamy, to Finn, to her mother. She was just so damn tired.

Groaning, she forced herself to roll over and push on to her feet to start her day. She had a plan forming in her mind and she wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep anyway. She stretched and folded her pallet back up to a manageable size and thought about how much of it she would be able to carry with her. She didn't have many personal items and even if she had, she preferred to pack and haul rations and practical tools. She needed to be smart if she was going to get where she was headed safely and quickly.

Exiting the drop ship, she looked out at the camp and suddenly heard a commotion coming from the other side of the drop ship. Octavia appeared and rushed to grab her arm, pulling Clarke in the direction she had just come from.

"Octavia, what's going on? Is someone hurt?" Clarke wasn't sure she was up to facing yet another injury so early in the day. She tried to stay patient and clear-headed, but she couldn't muster the energy for it today. She'd made up her mind to go and she wanted to be gone as soon as possible. Monty, Jasper and Octavia knew enough now that they'd be able to help the injured until Bellamy figured something out. They really didn't need her and she tried to convince herself that she didn't need them. She needed peace.

Octavia continued to drag her around the ship and quickly explained the newest development in trying to contact the Ark. "Raven got the radio working! She's speaking with your mother now and asked me to come get you. Your mother wants to talk to you." Clarke immediately dug her heels in and ripped her arm from Octavia's grasp. She balked at the idea of talking to her mother and didn't want to be anywhere near Raven right now, no matter how useful the mechanic was proving to be for communication with the Ark. But this meant she could leave without feeling guilty about it. The sooner the better.

"I, umm, I have to go check on Finn's wound. I'll be right there." Octavia looked at her like she'd grown a second head, but shrugged and let her go as Clarke quickly ducked back into the other drop ship entrance and began throwing her things into her pack. She had no intention of checking on Finn or speaking with her mother ever again. The two people that had hurt her the most could comfort themselves, or not, for all she cared. It was time to take care of herself. She could imagine her dad telling her to stop and think things through, but she couldn't let that stop her. It was time to go.

She exited the ship and made her way silently to the edge of camp, trying not to attract any attention to herself or the overstuffed bag she carried. As she reached the edge of the clearing where the 100 had set up tents and work stations, she picked up speed only to be jerked back by a strong hand gripping her forearm. She whipped around to see the third person she hoped to never speak with again.

Bellamy stared down at her with unmasked anger and a hint of disgust, his eyes nearly black with his dislike for the petite woman in front of him. "Where exactly do you think you're going, Princess?" His sneer made her skin crawl and she wondered how she had ever seen any good in him. She jerked from his grasp, rubbing her arm where he had gripped it tightly.

"What is it with you Blakes and not respecting personal boundaries? Keep your hands to yourself, _King_." The nickname was thrown with such sarcasm and bitterness Bellamy had to keep himself from stepping back in surprise. _Good_, Clarke thought, she could give it just as good as he did.

He recovered quickly and smirked. "Don't flatter yourself, Griffin. And don't answer a question with a question. Where. Are. You. Going."

Clarke knew she couldn't tell him the truth. She kept the lie simple and began walking quickly as she threw the explanation over her shoulder. "I'm going to gather more herbs for medicine."

He caught up to her and stepped in her path, forcing her to step first to the left then to the right when he sidestepped her at every turn. Bellamy wasn't going to let her go anywhere unless he felt like it.

He looked down at her and studied the determined expression on her face before narrowing his eyes. "Despite what you privileged think of janitors, I'm not actually stupid. You don't need a whole pack to gather medicinal herbs, Clarke. Now tell me where you're really going."

She couldn't help throwing her arms up in frustration before settling them on her hips. "Why do you care?! Don't you have many more _worthy_ people or things to worry about?" Bellamy didn't miss the wounded tone in her voice. He didn't doubt she realized how she'd sounded when she quickly swept around him to continue walking toward the newly reconstructed and nearly finished wall around camp.

He caught up once again and looked relieved when she paused at the sound of his voice. He hid his relief as she faced him and added extra venom to his next words for good measure. "Let's be very real with each other, Clarke. I don't care about _you_. I care about this camp. And you affect this camp. I need to know where our only healer is sneaking off to." He paused, then pasted a vicious leer on his face as he came to a realization. "Are you going to meet the Spacewalker somewhere, Princess? Is that why you need your bed roll?"

Clarke gasped at the insinuation and whirled around to face him, her fury evident in every feature. She had known everyone in camp knew of her previous indiscretion with Finn, but it hadn't been spoken of since Raven had arrived and fully staked her claim. She thought everyone had some modicum of respect for privacy. _Wrong again_, she thought to herself. Her hands shook as she pointed a finger at his chest and punctuated each word with a jab in his direction. "You, Bellamy Blake, are a fucking bastard. I knew you were guilty of a lot of things, but because you loved your sister, I never expected you to be capable of such intolerable cruelty."

Bellamy remained stalwart and unmoving. He looked down at her literally and figuratively and she expected him to yawn to express his lack of interest in her tirade. She worked hard to regain her composure and kept her voice cold and uncaring, much like the tall man in front of her. "I am going to search for resources. I am going alone and I am not coming back until and when I'm ready." She refused to tell him she wasn't coming back, that she'd rather be grounder bait than remain in a camp run by a hateful megalomaniac who seemed obsessed with lobbing insults at her whenever the opportunity arose.

His loud chuckle made her want to slap him, but she forced herself to remain calm. She would be away from him and the rest of her problems soon. She just had to get him to leave her alone once and for all.

"What makes you think I would allow that, Griffin? You're needed here, whether you and I like it or not." He crossed his arms and waited for her answer, thinking he would get the best of her by appealing to her need to be needed and recognized as a healer.

Now she smirked. "Actually, you don't. Raven made contact with the Ark this morning. The radio signal is holding strong. You can direct any and all medical questions to my mother and when the drop ships from the Ark begin coming down, you'll have actual doctors to depend on. Or at least the others will, you'll probably be floated as soon as Jaha gets ahold of you." When he didn't immediately respond, she hoisted her pack higher and turned, not intending to stop again until she was far from the camp and the 100.

Bellamy's mind raced thinking over her words and debating their truthfulness. He ignored her comment about Jaha, choosing to focus on how the camp would proceed without her. But he didn't stop her. He still blamed her for Charlotte's death and the chaos that had preceded it. He couldn't let it go and he couldn't let her go without one last jab.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish then! Don't worry, we won't be missing you!"

She turned to see him waving and was glad they were both out of earshot of the rest of the camp. She raised a middle finger and waved to him with it. She had an irresistible urge to wipe that smirk off his face.

She smiled her sweetest smile and began walking backwards grasping the strap of her bag with both hands. "You would know an awful lot about rubbish, wouldn't you, _Janitor_ Blake?" The smirk fell from his face and she turned passing through the wall, knowing he wouldn't follow. An overwhelming contentment settled over her. She was finally free.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry is Never Enough

Disclaimer: I don't own the 100 or its characters.

Author's Note: This is a very transitional chapter meant to show how thoughts and feelings are progressing. I just wanted to warn readers that there isn't any dialogue and it's a bit short. If you're not into that, sorry. I wanted to explore this journey with Clarke and obviously there's going to be a lot of gradual change in how these characters feel about themselves and each other that has to be worked out somehow. Thank you for reading, reviewing, favoriting and following, it is so appreciated! Without further ado, read on and let me know what you think!

Chapter 3

Clarke picked her way along a narrow break in the trees trying to figure out her next steps. Some would call her incredibly stupid, but she felt incredibly liberated. In those first few moments after she left the camp, she was just...happy. For the first time in a long time, she was relieved of stress, guilt and responsibility. Though a little guilt still ate at her. If she was found and captured by the Grounders, she could be a threat to the 100. But she wasn't going to let herself think about that right now. She had struck out on her own. She had told off Bellamy Blake. She was putting the past behind her, one muddy step at a time.

She listed the potential threats ahead of her in her mind. _Grounders. Animals. Poisonous food sources. Acid fog. Murphy, if he was still alive._ In comparison to the dangers on the Ark, that seemed like a lot. But the dangers on the Ark were more subtle, less suspicious even than poisonous nuts. _Rules too easily broken. Fathers too easily betrayed. Mothers too easily trusted._ Somewhere in her mind, Clarke knew that she would have to forgive her mother someday, if only for her own sanity. But in her current state, she was content to let that anger simmer. Her resentment of her mother, Finn, Bellamy...it would fuel her, keep her warm in the cold, keep her going in the impossible.

Bellamy had stood for a long time watching the place in the trees where she had disappeared. He had never imagined Clarke Griffin would crack from the pressure and go AWOL on her patients and friends. It was just so unexpected and unlike her. He had thought about leaving countless times, taking Octavia and just walking away. He envied Clarke her ability to actually do it. _Princess has some balls after all._

After realizing, she wasn't going to immediately come stomping back to camp complaining of a bee sting or some other trivial injury the privileged couldn't handle, he turned and made his way back to the middle of camp. It was unlikely that anyone would realize Clarke was gone for at least a few hours. He was unsure of how they would react when they did find the healer gone. Even less sure of what they would do when they found out he had let her walk away.

In truth, he didn't really believe they would be okay without her. Even with the radio and doctors to be delivered shortly, Clarke wasn't particularly replaceable. He hated to admit it. He hated even more that he had let her go more because of his own prejudices and less because it was what she told him was better for the 100. He wanted her gone because when she was around, he had to be better. And being better was hard. Except, apparently, for Clarke. She was better, but not perfect. And he hated her for it. He hated himself for hating her. He knew she wasn't like the other privileged on the Ark, that she truly wanted to help people. Beyond deserting camp, she hadn't done very many selfish things either in space or on Earth. And that was what made her truly better than him.

He suspected even Octavia knew that he was more selfish that any of the others. He did what he had to in order to get on the drop ship, but he continued to ask himself if it was because he wanted to protect Octavia or because he couldn't live with the guilt that he was the reason she was going to Earth in the first place? He wanted to think he was a good brother, a good person. But Clarke Griffin put that in limbo with her calm voice and forward-thinking.

He was glad she was gone. Now he could be a leader without her constant nagging and badgering about what was best for everyone. He heard her voice in his head reminding him that she had only ever wanted what was best for them all, him included. He shook those thoughts away quickly. He didn't have sympathy for people like Clarke and he didn't have time to be the perfect leader she expected him to be. They needed to survive. He wondered how long she would on her own.  
-

Clarke broke through the acres of trees surrounding the 100's camp to a wide valley. She could see fields of high green grass with a small stream cutting across the middle of it all. In the distance there were hundreds of mountain peaks, all much larger than Mt. Weather would likely have been. There were more trees scattered throughout the valley and one particularly large oak on the edge of the stream. Like a beacon calling to her, she realized that oak was where she should stop for the night. She could make her solitary camp beneath the shade of its branches and decide where she was going next. Or she could stay for a while. The area was open, probably the worst idea for staying hidden from enemies, but it felt right. Like the Earth she had drawn on the walls of her cell.

The wind moved the tall blades of grass like ocean waves, or how she imagined ocean waves would move. Now that she had a plan for the next few hours at least, she made her way slowly to the oak and rested her hands on the rough bark there. She felt like she was greeting an old friend. Maybe she was going crazy after all. But it felt like she was finally home and she couldn't help smiling wide at the idea.

She sat down her pack and made a place to sit in the shade of the tree, leaning back against the trunk to stare out at the green fields around her. She wished her father could see this with her. When she felt the wetness on her face, she looked to the sky but didn't see any clouds. She was crying without realizing it, without feeling it. She had been so happy a moment ago. Where had that joy gone? _Dad should have been here_, she thought. _It all should have been different, but it's not. It never should have been this way. Dad, Wells, Charlotte. They deserved to see this._

She laid her head back on the trunk and wept, allowing herself to do something she thought she'd never do on a sunny Earth day thousands of miles below the Ark. She mourned.


End file.
